


Mind is Moving Low

by foxpuppet



Category: Scooby Doo - All Media Types, Scooby Doo Where Are You! (TV 1969)
Genre: 70's references, Drug Use, Drugs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Making Out, Marijuana, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Recreational Drug Use, Short One Shot, pov shaggy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 00:59:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17991839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxpuppet/pseuds/foxpuppet
Summary: Shaggy wished once again that Fred wasn't so damn wonderful. It wasn't fair. Especially when Shaggy was so… Shaggy.





	Mind is Moving Low

**Author's Note:**

> This is written from my very vague memories of watching the 70's cartoon as a child. 
> 
> I called the draft of this "Scooby Dooby Do Me" and it was so damn tempting to stick to that name.

Shaggy was high. Shaggy was so high he could see through the top of his head. He giggled and ignored Scooby’s put out huff from outside the van. He usually left Scooby outside when he did this.

It didn't seem right to hotbox the Mystery Machine with his dog inside.

“Hey, Scoob, I saw a skunk over in the woods,” Shaggy heard Fred say before hearing Scooby excitedly run off.

Opps. Guess Fred wasn't in the mood for Shaggy to turn the van into his private greenhouse. He should roll down the windows, open the doors and apologise.

But he was so damn high. He was flying, like, totally flying, man. He could see his house from here. He giggled and heard Fred sigh.

The back door opened and Fred looked in at him, an eyebrow raised but not looking too annoyed. Shaggy grinned at him sheepishly.

“Hey Freddy, man,” he said arse still firmly planted in the comfiest back-seat beanbag, “Sorry, I know I should have, like, asked first.”

“Yeah, you should have,” Fred agreed, but with no anger, “I have to get this thing past my dad, man. When you've had your way with it even if I park it a block away he can smell the MJ.”

Shaggy continued his apologetic smiles but didn't move. He wasn't actually that high. But he could be. Fred could be too, actually. And that would be twice the fun.

“Wanna puff?” Shaggy asked, holding out the mostly smoked joint.

Fred blinked at him. “Fuck yeah,” he said before climbing into the van and pulling the door shut.

This got Shaggy giggling again. Freddy swearing always made him laugh for some reason.

Fred smiled at him around the joint as he took a long, long drag. Still kind of giggling, Shaggy watched Fred’s chest hitch and his face turn red as he held the smoke. Then he released it in long twining clouds from either side of his grin.

“You look like a dragon,” Shaggy said, his giggles calming down.

“I feel like the caterpillar from Alice in Wonderland,” Freddy said back, finishing off the roach with another long drag. He dropped the tiny end into Shaggy’s mint tin ashtray that was open on the van floor.

“Feed your head,” Shaggy half sang.

Fred caught the giggles then too and the two of them were off for the next few minutes. As soon as they calmed down one or the other would sing-say “If you go chasing rabbits,” or “Go ask Alice,” and they'd be off again.

Finally, they trailed off.

“Where are the girls?” Shaggy asked, just realising they weren't here.

The gang were supposed to be investigating a spooky house. Shaggy hadn't stuck around since it was just an old house. Way less scary than spooky ghosts but definitely less interesting.

“They left like an hour ago. I wasn't done exploring and they didn't want to wait,” Fred shrugged, “It's close enough so they decided to walk home.”

Shaggy nodded. The looked over at his stash. “Should I light up another?” he asked.

“Nah, man. Just that much is enough for me,” Freddy said moving to lay with his head near Shaggy’s legs on the beanbag, “Just enough to loosen me up.”

He stretched and twisted, showing off his athlete's body. Shaggy felt himself swallow. It was suddenly quite warm in the van. Maybe he really should crack a window.

But he just sat there licking his lips as he tried to see as far down Freddy's shirt as this angle would allow.

Shaggy had never been attracted to anyone. He had been content to get high and hang out with his dog. Had been _ecstatic_ to, really. But once the gang had all started hanging out he had noticed. Well. He had noticed Freddy.

He didn't think Freddy had noticed him. But he also didn't think Freddy would mind Shaggy noticing him.

He'd been supportive of the rallies that were being held since the Stonewall riot. They all had a pretty good idea of what Velma’s “I'm one” pin meant. And no one seemed to mind.

But then, there was a difference between being okay with the _idea_ of something, the idea of _strangers_ being something, and with being okay with your best friend trying to peek down your shirt.

Shaggy jerked his eyes away and wished once again that Fred wasn't so damn wonderful. It wasn't fair. Especially when Shaggy was so… Shaggy.

“Does smoking make you horny?” Fred asked.

Shaggy resisted the urge to punch his friend in the back of the head.

“Everything makes you horny,” Shaggy joked, ruffling Fred’s hair.

Fred laughed then let out a contented sound. Shaggy realised he hadn't stopped touching Fred's hair. Was now stroking his fingers through it.

“Sorry,” he said but didn't stop, couldn't make himself, “Your hair is really soft.”

“S’fine, man,” Fred murmured, pushing up into Shaggy’s hand.

Shaggy watched his hand stroking through Freddy’s pale hair with a feeling of unreality. It really was so soft. It smelled nice too. _Fred_ smelled nice.

Still with that feeling of unreality Shaggy watched his hand stroke down Freddy's face, tracing his brow, skirting his lips. Watched his hand slip down his neck, to tease at the skin peeking out of Fred's collar, so much more of it visible without his neckerchief.

“If,” Shaggy began. Swallowed. Began again, “If you're really that horny, I could help you out?”

Fred jerked, the first real movement he had made since Shaggy’s had started petting him. He didn't open his eyes though. Didn't pull away.

The silence spiralled out.

If Shaggy had known he was going to proposition Fred he would have gotten Fred more high first. Or maybe he wouldn't have. That seemed like a cheap move.

“Help me out how?” Fred asked curiously. Encouragingly.

Shaggy took a shaking breath and moved off the beanbag. Fred sank with it, almost prone on the van floor. His hands tightened their hold on his shirt. Relaxed. His eyes stayed closed.

Shaggy looked down at his friend. The first person he had ever wanted like this. He looked down at the body he might actually be allowed to touch. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat and in his crotch. Nervous sweat was breaking out all over him. He wouldn't have traded this moment for the best weed or spookiest mystery in the world.

He reached out for Fred’s hip, cupping the sweet curve of it in his big hand. Fred breathed out softly. Didn't move. Didn't open his eyes. But he lifted his chin. A baring of his throat. A nod. An invitation to continue.

Shaggy felt dizzy as blood rushed south. He swung a leg over, telegraphed his movements. He was kneeling over Freddy, legs spread around his hips, face hovering above his face.

He swallowed thickly again. How did he have any moisture left for his mouth when he was sweating it all out in nervous bullets? He licked his lips a couple of times.

Freddy's eyes slitted open. His pupils looked blown but that was probably the hash. But the excited, scared glitter. That was all Fred. Fred following a mystery. Fred driving too fast. Fred living dangerously and loving it.

“Like this?” Shaggy asked leaning slowly, so slowly, down to Fred's lips.

Before he could make it halfway Fred was yanking him down by the back of his neck, crushing their lips together. His other hand threaded its fingers through Shaggy’s belt loops and pulled down.

Shaggy let out a surprised sound as their lips met and a breathy groan as he felt the building hardness against his hip.

He felt dizzy and amazing. He gripped Fred's face in his hands and kissed him as best as his inexperience would allow. Fred made noises, low and breathy, and Shaggy thought he might come.

He broke off, went to shift his hips away. But Fred had a tight hold. He was grinding up against Shaggy, making little sounds in the back of his throat. Shaggy pressed back and the noises got bigger.

“What's wrong?” Freddy asked, “No good?” His movements hesitated.

Shaggy shook his head. “Too good,” he said in a husky, breathless voice he didn't recognise, “Gonna come in my pants.”

Fred whined, his grinding regaining urgency. “Fuck yeah,” he said, kissing at Shaggy’s jaw, his throat, “Fuck yeah, me too.”

Freddy swearing was never going to give him the giggles again. From now on it would always give him boners.

Shaggy moaned and kissed Fred again. Fred introduced his tongue into the proceedings and Shaggy could have cried it felt so good. Might have cried. It was the press of lips, the surge of tongue, mouths open wide then pressing close. Like an ocean, ebbing and flowing, from deep to soft and back. Like an ocean, Shaggy could drown in it.

And still, the insistent press if Fred's hips to Shaggy’s. The grinding motion. The push and pull of hips and hands. Fred was cupping, squeezing, kneading Shaggy's arse. Pressing him down as Freddy pressed up.

Fred somehow managed to work his legs out from in-between Shaggy's to wrap them around his skinny hips. Shaggy slotted between Fred's thighs like he belonged there. His hips surged in instinctive motion, his own hand moving down to lift Fred even closer.

Closer was all Shaggy wanted. Closer, hotter, deeper. He was crying, he could feel the moisture falling from his cheeks to Freddy's. Because it felt so fucking _good_.

He wanted more, needed more. Had to feel that heat with his own bare skin.

“Freddy,” Shaggy moaned, “Can I? I want. Touch.” He groped and pawed at Fred's crotch.

“Fuck,” Fred whined, “Please.”

Somehow Shaggy got Fred's fly open and his underwear out of the way so he could finally touch that bar of molten iron that had been driving him out of his mind.

It was so hot and hard and smooth and wet. Shaggy thought he might die from the feel of it, so perfect in his hand. He kissed Freddy deeply, desperately.

“You feel so good,” Shaggy said, panting against Fred's wet lips, “Love the feel if you in my hand.”

Fred was letting out sounds that seemed to echo endlessly in Shaggy’s dick. He was twisting and clutching, his own lashes somewhat damp.

“Oh god, Shaggy,” Fred huffed, his lower body rolling into Shaggy's hand, “Oh fuck. Oh god. Oh, Shaggy!”

Fred convulsed, clutching at Shaggy's back, kissing him desperately. The noises, low and wanting, never stopped and Shaggy knew he had found his new favourite music. He felt the wet hot pulses of Fred's come on his hand and soaking into his shirt.

Fred collapsed back into the beanbag, panting like he’d just chased a hundred ghosts and caught them all. Shaggy leaned back and grinned down at him.

“That was groovy,” Shaggy laughed, wiping his hand on his already messy shirt.

“Fuck yeah,” Fred breathed, grinning back.

Shaggy leaned down again to kiss, to touch. He couldn’t seem to stop. He pushed up Fred’s shirt and petted at his so smooth skin. Freddy kissed back languidly, gripping lazily at Shaggy’s hair, legs still loosely wrapped around his waist.

Then there was a hand at Shaggy’s fly, popping the buttons.

Shaggy felt his stomach drop, clench, then swoop up like he was on a rollercoaster. He couldn’t keep back the amazed sound even by pulling his lips between his teeth.

Fred grinned up at him. “Wasn’t gonna leave you hanging,” he said, eyes twinkling. He dropped a wink and Shaggy felt his heart join his swooping stomach.

Fred’s hand was smooth too, startlingly cool against Shaggy’s overheated dick. His grip was much surer than Shaggy’s had been, his pace more practised. Shaggy had a moment to wonder who else Fred had been giving handjobs to, if girl-handjobs and boy-handjobs were similar enough that the skill transferred.

Then he couldn’t think.

Because the pressure was perfect and the speed was too and Fred was sucking on Shaggy’s neck. Shaggy couldn’t hear himself over the blood rushing in his ears but he was sure he was being embarrassingly loud. But he couldn’t even care as Fred touched him so perfectly, so intimately.

Shaggy chased the high, already so close just from watching Fred, touching Fred. It was over quickly, feeling so good that Shaggy couldn’t even worry if it was too fast.

He panted into Freddy's hair, breathing in his scent as Shaggy came down. His feet and hands tingled with the after-effects of his orgasm. Moisture gathered in his eyes again.

“That was like, _wow_ ,” Shaggy said, as articulate as always.

Freddy laughed gently, carding his fingers through Shaggy's thick hair. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly, “Like, totally wow.”

Shaggy laughed too. Almost hysterical giggles as he pulled back to look Freddy in the face. Freddy smiled tenderly up at him, his hand coming down from Shaggy's hair to cup his cheek.

Then there was scratching at the van doors as Scooby whined to be let in.

“Yeah, just give us a second, Scoob,” Shaggy called. He looked down at Freddy again, a thousand questions crowding his mind and no idea where to start.

Freddy just smiled some more then leaned up and kissed Shaggy, so, so gently.

“Come on, let's get decent before Scoob busts the door down,” Freddy said with a chuckle.

Shaggy smiled back and they straightened themselves up as well as they could. Just before they opened the door Freddy wrapped a hand around Shaggy's neck and kissed him deeply, sweetly.

When they pulled back Freddy's expression was almost as goofy as Shaggy's felt.

 


End file.
